This they did, gladly. From the rise they reconnoitered, in a cautious knot. The pony herd was as plain as before; still ruled the lonely night; somewhere down there the Indian village slept. They believed that they could trace a collection of tipis.
After pointing and explaining, and receiving nods of understanding, the general as quietly withdrew. All followed.
Now a council of war must be held, where the sabres had been left. California Joe listened approvingly; Little Beaver and Hard Rope anxiously, trying to comprehend the white chief’s plan. The Osages had loosened their buffalo robes, as if prepared for instant action. But that was not the scheme.
The attack was to be made at dawn, as soon as there was light enough for aiming. The village was to be surrounded, first, and charged from four sides.
Now was it after midnight; the moon was floating high. At once set out, under cover of the ridge, with troops G, H and M, about 200 men, Major Joel Elliot, on wide circuit to take station whence he might charge the village from below; set out in the other direction, with B and F troops, Colonel William Thompson, to take similar position above.
“The attack will be made promptly at daylight, gentlemen,” were the general’s last instructions. “The band will play Garryowen, and at the first note you will charge from whatever position you are in.”
The veteran Colonel Myers and his “right center” column might remain, until time to take their posts also, not so far away, on the right.
The fourth or “center” column was commanded by the general himself; but of the four companies, A, C, D and K, Captain Hamilton commanded the one squadron, Colonel West the other. And there were Lieutenant (Colonel) “Queen’s Own” Cook’s sharpshooters.